Аня з острова Принца Едуарда

Greeting and Farewell

           I’mtired,andgreen,andprovincial,andonlyabouttenyearsold.Forpity’ssaketakeyourpoor,broken-downchumtosomeplacewhereshecanhearherselfthink.”

           “I’lltakeyourightuptoourboardinghouse.I’veacabreadyoutside.”

           “It’ssuchablessingyou’rehere,Prissy.Ifyouweren’tIthinkIshouldjustsitdownonmysuitcase,hereandnow,andweepbittertears.Whatacomfortonefamiliarfaceisinahowlingwildernessofstrangers!”

           “IsthatGilbertBlytheoverthere,Anne?Howhehasgrownupthispastyear!HewasonlyaschoolboywhenItaughtinCarmody.Andofcoursethat’sCharlieSloane.HEhasn’tchangedcouldn’t!Helookedjustlikethatwhenhewasborn,andhe’lllooklikethatwhenhe’seighty.Thisway,dear.We’llbehomeintwentyminutes.”

           “Home!”groanedAnne.“Youmeanwe’llbeinsomehorribleboardinghouse,inastillmorehorriblehallbedroom,lookingoutonadingybackyard.”

           “Itisn’tahorribleboardinghouse,Anne-girl.Here’sourcab.Hopinthedriverwillgetyourtrunk.Oh,yes,theboardinghouseit’sreallyaveryniceplaceofitskind,asyou’lladmittomorrowmorningwhenagoodnight’ssleephasturnedyourbluesrosypink.It’sabig,old-fashioned,graystonehouseonSt.JohnStreet,justanicelittleconstitutionalfromRedmond.Itusedtobethe‘residence’ofgreatfolk,butfashionhasdesertedSt.JohnStreetanditshousesonlydreamnowofbetterdays.They’resobigthatpeoplelivinginthemhavetotakeboardersjusttofillup.

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Roboto Lora
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